Twilight Memories desu
by Aki Ryu
Summary: It was after the Meiji Revolution. It was before the Kamiya Dojo. It was somewhere in between. It was his turbulent fellings in the twilight.


Twilight Memories  
  
One foot in front of the other. That is how I got here and that is how I am going to leave.   
  
Ten years had passed since the Meiji revolution. Ten years since the bloodshed and ten years of   
  
my life living as a vagabond - no home, no friends, no family. Somehow I preferred it that way.  
  
I enter a small, quaint village where there was a smile from every villager and a meal for every   
  
travel-weary stranger.  
  
Trust - the town was full of it. Villagers leave their doors unlocked at night and mothers let   
  
their children play away from the village unattended. All that has happened ten years ago had   
  
faded away like a bad dream... something that causes one to be uneasy but other than that, it was   
  
not anything for one to be overtly worried about.  
  
The villagers lived in peace, peace with the government and peace within themselves...  
  
something that always seemed to elude me. I will never be able to forget the bloodshed or the   
  
part I played in the revolution.  
  
Looking up, I saw two children playing in a puddle, splashing about in the mud. A mother was   
  
calling out to them, scolding them for getting themselves dirty just after their bath.  
  
Family - the one thing I have never known. I barely remember my parents who died when I   
  
was still a child. The only 'family' I have ever known was three sisters travelling with the same   
  
slave traders I was sold to. They took me under their wing, a small, frightened child with large   
  
violet eyes and flaming hair. Being the only boy in my 'family' I vowed to protect them should   
  
we come to any harm.   
  
What a joke, I thought bitterly. I couldn't even protect myself at that time and yet I sought to   
  
protect another. This fact was made crystal clear when the slave traders were ambushed by a   
  
group of bloodthirsty robbers. I was the sole survivor of that massacre - one thing I never   
  
forgave myself for. I should have died with them. I should never have lived. I should never have   
  
been saved by my shishiou. I should never have been taken in by him. I should never have   
  
mastered the ancient art of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu and I should never have been an assassin for the   
  
Meiji government.   
  
It all started out with my desire to protect the helpless just like the child I was. I wanted to help   
  
others and I wanted to bring peace to my country. So, I agreed to work as an assassin for the   
  
new government. I was the Assassin known as Battousai.  
  
The Assassin was famous because no one had ever seen him. Those who did never lived to tell   
  
the tale. He never failed a mission and he never made a mistake. It was rumoured that he was the   
  
best swordsman and indeed the title of Hittokiri Battousai was given to him. He was the   
  
strongest and no one had ever beat him in his reign. He killed many well-guarded high officials   
  
without leaving a trace. Indeed, many of the bodyguards did not even know that the man they   
  
were protecting was already dead until the body was found in the morning. Such was the   
  
assassin's skill until mothers use the name Battousai to scare their children from wandering to far   
  
away from home or misbehaving. He was the killer without a soul. Those who opposed the new   
  
government were eliminated quickly, silently and without any fuss.   
  
I never liked killing but I knew that by taking out the minority I was helping thousands of   
  
others. Because of the killer I was, the revolution was sped up. If it had dragged on, many more   
  
innocent lives would be in the line of fire. It was the choice of one life to a thousand. I chose the   
  
former.   
  
I thought that killing for a good cause was worthwhile but I was wrong. Taking a life, no   
  
matter how wicked the person was, was never an easy thing. So I never wanted to know about   
  
my target until a few days before the scheduled task. If I got to know the target, about their wives   
  
and such, I would never be able to go through with my mission.  
  
But no matter what I did, I never forgot the looks of terror on their face as they faced me. I   
  
never forgot the pain of killing yet another person and I never forgot the blood. There was so   
  
much blood.  
  
"Oof!" a boy of three rammed into me headlong. With an apologetic grin, the boy extracted   
  
himself from me and with a last smile, rushed into the crowd.  
  
Stopping at a stall, I bought some provisions to sustain me during my journey. I do not know   
  
where I will be heading. I do not know where I am. I only know that I will stop my wandering   
  
only when I have made peace with the killer inside of me. I never want to revert to that sort of   
  
life again.   
  
I head out towards the setting sun, leaving the small town with its joyous laughter and peaceful   
  
warmth behind me. As I take each agonizing step, I feel the familiar coldness enveloping my   
  
soul.  
  
One foot in front of the other. That is how I got here, and that is how I am going to leave. One   
  
foot in front of the other. 


End file.
